Monachopsis
by LeftyGeek
Summary: Young parents Janine and Abe decide that their newborn daughter, Rosemarie, would be safer if she grew up in the human world (With Abe's watchful eye never far away, of course.) Years pass by and teenage dhampir Rose is struggling to fit in with her human peers. Anger problems and depression lead her down an unexpected path-one that may lead her to discover her true identity.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi folks! I have returned to writing fanfiction for the first time in a long while. I reread the VA series and the idea for this story popped into my head. I'm putting up two chapters for right now, to see what kind of response I get. It feels good to be writing again. I have missed it. Please review and let me know what you think of the story so far. Thanks.**

 **MONACHOPSIS**

Chapter 1

 _March 23, 1994 7:28 PM_

[Abe]

"Damn this all to hell! What _is_ the hold up?" I demanded to my driver, Onan. I leaned forward, glaring at the dashboard clock of my Lexus that had been stuck in an inexplicable traffic jam for what felt like hours. We were only about fifteen miles outside of the Moroi Royal Court in Pennsylvania and I needed to be there _now_.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mazur. There's still no word. I've telephoned the guardians at Court but the line is busy. There's not any report from the human news sources either." Aggravated, I reached forward and snatched up the car phone myself, dialing the number of a very trusted contact at Court who was certain to be in the loop. When Abe Mazur wanted answers, Abe Mazur got answers. I growled into the receiver as the line rang and rang. No answer. She knew better than to ignore my calls! We would certainly have words later. Perhaps she was no longer worthy of the monetary incentive I so graciously provided in return for her services. Frustrated, I slumped back into my seat, rubbing my temples.

"I could _walk_ there faster than this! I knew we should have taken the chopper," I muttered.

"Sir, you wanted to take the car because it would have taken two hours to get the chopper prepared on such short notice," Eren, my most trusted bodyguard, who was currently seated to my left, reminded me.

"Yes, but that was before I knew we'd be stuck in the goddamn car for two hours anyway!" I retorted sharply, silencing Eren, who shifted his eyes toward the window, frowning. There was no doubt I had angered him with my temper, but with his salary, he was wise enough to keep his opinions to himself.

"I'll keep trying the guardians, Mr. Mazur," said Onan, reaching for the phone once again.

Janine was going to have my head if I didn't get to that hospital soon. It was bad enough that the court had taken over an hour to relay the message to me that she had gone into labor. Over an hour!

Damn those pompous, frivolous, self-absorbed, royal Moroi! The fools are only concerned with flouncing around at their lavish parties. Their lives consist solely of drinking, gambling their precious fortunes, and spreading gossip like wildfire. They're too preoccupied with their own scandalous liaisons to give a moment's thought to anyone else—particularly a non-royal. True, I didn't have their precious blood coursing through my veins—but I didn't need it. I was self-made. It was not by the grace of God that the Moroi world respected Abe Mazur—it was by the breaking of knuckles. My fortune was earned, not inherited. That's not to say that I didn't make sure to know the ins and outs of all their petty affairs. After all, what better way to keep my eyes and ears in their circles than to party with the best of them? I normally was practically omniscient in the Moroi world—the exception being right now!

"The guardians' line is still busy. But it's most likely a car accident," updated Onan, as we stared out at the endless sea of brake lights ahead. "Not anything that the Court would even know or be concerned with." I was inclined to accept his reasoning, except, it made no sense that the line directly to the guardians at Court was constantly busy. Few people even knew that number. Most had to be put through to the guardians on another line that was an extension of the main offices. Plus, my contact wasn't answering, and she knew that it was of utmost importance to answer my calls no matter what. If I didn't hear from her soon, then there had better be an excellent excuse—like her death—or there would be hell to pay.

Whatever was going on, it could _not_ make me miss the birth of my child. This was an important day in a father's life. Janine wanted to keep me far out of the picture and send our child away to one of the academies to become a guardian. Such was the normal arrangement for dhampir children and their Moroi fathers. But she still hadn't denied me seeing the newborn today.

Janine was a weakness of mine. She was beautiful in a bold, fiery sort of way that suited her Irish looks. Her blazing red hair was cropped short, a stark contrast to her smooth, milky white skin. Although she was very petite, she had a curvy, toned body typical of dhampir women. Most of the time Guardian Hathaway was the textbook description of a perfect bodyguard: attentive, fiercely loyal and deadly. She and I both wielded power, though in entirely different ways. I think that was what drew us to one another, time and again, but also what continuously drove us apart. Either of us giving in to the other was like giving up some of the power we coveted, and so we constantly butted heads. We hadn't planned to have a child together, but we also hadn't done anything to prevent it. I knew Janine wasn't happy, having just started out in her guardian career. But she'd taken it in stride, just like she'd done with every challenge she'd ever faced. I knew desk work at the court had made her miserable for the duration of her pregnancy, and she would have to continue with it while she took care of our newborn. The education system for dhampirs and Moroi started them out at a fairly young age, but she would still have a few years before our child could enter the education system.

I couldn't say that I was entirely pleased with the arrangement. Most of the time, Moroi fathers were practically non-existent to their dhampir offspring. Janine wanted it this way for us. Some of my business ventures were of the nature that she felt it best for me to keep my distance from our child. Plus she had a career. I could hardly expect her to give that up for us to run off or for her to go and live like a bloodwhore. Besides, I knew she wanted our child to join the guardians like she had. It was a cause she firmly believed in and it required years of dedicated training. So, we had agreed upon sending our child to one of the academies for dhampirs and Moroi. Janine would sacrifice a few years of active duty until our child was school-aged. I would do my part to fund any of Janine and the child's needs as well as the costs of an education. That was one thing I did have the power to do.

"Mr. Mazur, I finally got through to Court." I must have been too deep in thought to have heard Onan talking on the phone.

"Well?" I demanded.

"It's not good, sir. There's been a Strigoi attack." I swallowed nervously. To my left and right I felt my two guardians tense up. "They ran a Moroi family off the road and attacked them. Made it look like a car accident. They had to call in the Alchemists to deal with human witnesses. It's all a chaotic mess. That's why traffic is so backed up." It made sense to me now, why the guardians' phone line had been so busy. "As soon as I get to the next exit we can take an alternate route to the hospital," he added.

I was so floored that I barely heard him. Strigoi running victims off the road in cars? In my twenty-five years, I'd never heard of an attack like that before. Even with a guardian, an attack in an automobile could easily turn deadly. The guardian and the Moroi could have already been injured from the accident, making it even simpler for the Strigoi to finish them off. I felt a bit nauseated at the thought.

"Did they ID the victims yet?" asked Eren.

"Some members of the Ozera family," answered Onan. "Ruslan and Grisha, along with their guardian and their three children. The youngest wasn't even a year old. All confirmed dead." I swallowed, picturing the family in my head. I'd just seen them a few days ago at Court. Ruslan, tall with black hair and pale blue eyes and his wife, Grisha, petite for a Moroi, with coppery hair, had been out walking with their three children. The youngest stood out in my mind. Held high in her father's arms, she shared his dark hair, and her wide, blue eyes took in the world with such innocence. She'd worn a bright yellow pea coat and matching yellow shoes—like a ray of sunshine. A smile danced across her face. I tried not to picture her body now, cold and lifeless; bite marks on her tiny neck. I felt sick.

I couldn't help imagining, what if it had been my child, sharing that same fate?

[Janine]

"I'm going to need you to push harder, Miss Hathaway," a skinny, tired-looking, Moroi nurse with an unnaturally nasally voice commanded for the tenth time.

"I am pushing!" I bellowed, louder than I had meant to. The nurse's weary face looked slightly taken aback, but didn't say anything else. "Where is Ibrahim?" I demanded, writhing as a sharp wave of pain flooded over me. "He should have been here hours ago," I gasped.

"Mr. Mazur hasn't arrived yet. He sends his apologies, but he is caught in traffic," answered yet another nurse standing near the door. She was young, probably close to my age, with sleek, blonde hair and such a huge, fake smile permanently plastered on her face. I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to punch her. That is, if I could have gotten out of this godforsaken bed. Damn hormones!

"Well, tell him to GET HERE NOW!" I shrieked instead, trying to let out my frustrations as I continued pushing.

"Get the doctor in here! This baby's coming!" I heard the skinny nurse shout. Blondie bolted out the door.

"No, not yet!" I protested. "It can't be time yet!"

"Sorry, Miss Hathaway," said the middle-aged female doctor, bustling through the doorway. Her smile seemed more genuine, and there were lines of fatigue etched into her face. "These things don't wait."

"Well shove it back in there then!" I shouted. "The father's not here yet!" Ignoring my protests, the doctor and nurses scurried around getting ready for the delivery.

The next few moments passed by in an agonizing blur. I only remembered a horrific pain, the sounds of an infant's cries, and overwhelming exhaustion.

"It's a girl!" announced the skinny nurse brightly. I had honestly been hoping for a boy. It would have been easier on me to send a boy to guardian school than a girl. Hopefully she'd take after me and enjoy it.

A moment later, a tiny bundle, wrapped in a blanket, was placed into my arms. She was no longer crying, and looked peaceful, like she was practically asleep.

"Hi, baby," I cooed, feeling my heart melt as I looked at her. When I had found out I was pregnant, I'd been horrified. I'd spent most of this pregnancy wishing that I hadn't been so reckless. Now, for the first time, I felt a wave of joy and love gazing at this tiny miracle we had created. I knew now, that I would sacrifice whatever it took to keep my beautiful daughter happy and healthy. But where on earth _was_ Ibrahim? He'd missed our baby's birth! Surely he should have been here for this! I at least wanted him to help me with a name.

"You have to let me in! I am the father!" I heard a familiar voice in the hallway. Well, that answered my question. Ibrahim had arrived.

A second later, he strolled through the door, handsome as always, dressed in a lime green button-down shirt and colorful paisley scarf. Somehow he could always make those ridiculous, flashy colors look good. I couldn't help but smile at him as his eyes fell on me and his daughter. But I soon noticed a troubled look in his eyes. Something wasn't right.

"Janine," he breathed, stepping to my bedside and gazing down at our daughter.

"It's a girl, Ibrahim," I whispered, unable to stay upset with him for being late. That's the way it was with him. He always had his reasons, and I'd learned a long time ago not to ask too many questions.

"My precious daughter," he sighed, touching the tiny infant's head with his fingertips. I could sense sadness in his voice.

"What is it, Ibrahim? What's wrong?" I asked carefully.

"Janine, there was a Strigoi attack."

"What?" I demanded, my voice louder than it should have been. My baby's eyes widened and she looked like she might cry. "What happened?" I repeated in a softer tone. I listened intently as Ibrahim described the details of the attack. I'd never heard of anything quite like it. I had known of Ruslan and Grisha. They were good people. And their guardian, Lorenzo, had been a year ahead of me at the academy. We'd been friendly, sparring and practicing together quite a bit. He'd been so proud to have landed the job with the Ozera family right out of school. He was a phenomenal guardian—one of the very best in his graduating class. My heart ached.

Looking into Abe's eyes, I could tell he was the most unsettled I'd ever seen him. His eyes lit up with love for our precious daughter, but at the same time I read worry in his features.

"Our little darling needs a name," I spoke softly to him, admiring the tiny bundle in my arms staring up at me.

"Rose, like the most beautiful flower," Abe answered without hesitation, gazing at his daughter.

"Rosemarie," I suggested, wanting to make the name a bit more unique.

"It's perfect," Abe replied, reaching down to squeeze my hand. "Our perfect, precious daughter—our little Rosemarie."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

[Abe]

That night, I couldn't sleep a bit. I tossed and turned in the hotel room's bed. Images flooded my mind. I pictured the adorable Ozera daughter, grinning in her bright yellow coat. But slowly the image morphed into something horrifying. She was slaughtered, no longer smiling and alive, her bright yellow coat stained with pools of crimson blood. When I looked at her more closely, I realized that she was not the Ozera girl after all. But she was, in fact, my Rosemarie—eyes blank in death, blood oozing from telltale bite marks on her tiny neck.

How was I to turn my precious daughter over to one of the academies? They'd train her as a fighter, so she would become a guardian. Her whole purpose in life would become to protect and defend against the evil strigoi. She would spend her days defending Moroi, like me, from these evil creatures, but at what cost? Her life would never be her own. She would die—and perhaps die young—defending others. She would be a bodyguard, always putting others before herself. Of course it was admirable work. Janine was fiercely dedicated and I admired that about her greatly. But I felt that my Rosemarie should have a choice. And in our plan for her, we weren't giving her one.

I knew it was abnormal for a Moroi father to be concerned with the life of his dhampir daughter. Most Moroi men didn't even pay attention to their dhampir offspring. But little Rosemarie was a part of me and Janine. I couldn't help but melt when she looked up at me, cooing and smiling. I felt a sense of completion I had never felt before. It pained me to know that I would be absent for most of her life. But Janine was right to keep me away. There were things I was involved in that had no place for a young girl. And some of the things, Janine didn't even know about. Financially I would provide everything they could ever want or need. Other than that, I would simply live as a shadow, keeping an eye on their lives from a distance when I was able.

While Janine kept Rosemarie until she was old enough for school, they were going to stay at Court, which I knew was as safe a place as any. But I still worried. I could give my Rosemarie a better life than that—one where she wouldn't be destined to sacrifice herself for another life—one where her life would be just as valuable as any Moroi's. But, I couldn't take her with me, and ultimately her care would be left in the hands of Janine.

I sat thinking for a few quiet moments, picturing the most gruesome slayings of dhampirs and Moroi I'd witnessed over the years. Our world was a dangerous disaster. I wished that I wouldn't have to subject my precious angel to this disastrous mess. And then, it dawned on me. I had a great idea—a very nonconventional one—but still great.

Our Rosemarie was a dhampir, meaning she was indiscernible from an ordinary human. If I sent her to live with humans, she could have a normal life without the dangers that faced our people. And besides that, she could choose to do whatever she wanted with her life, rather than be limited to being someone else's bodyguard.

Now, I wouldn't give my darling away to just any random humans, of course. I had connections, in the human world as well as the vampire one. A few prospects floated through my mind already. Of course they would be well-compensated for caring for my daughter. And I would never be far away, making certain that her care was everything it should be. I'd get her in the best school, the nicest neighborhood. She would grow up with a normal life. And she'd never even have to know she was adopted.

Yes, I liked this plan. I liked it a lot. My baby daughter, safe and happy, never even having to know what a Strigoi was, much less kill one. It would pain me to never get to know her, but that was no different than if she went to train at an academy. Janine would be the only parent she would know, and their relationship would be distant, at best. Even though Janine was willing to sacrifice a few years of her career to care for Rosemarie, I knew it wasn't ideal for her. She undoubtedly loved Rose, but as a young, single mother, she was lost and overwhelmed, no matter how hard she tried to hide it from me. I could give my daughter a normal, loving family, with a mom and a dad. She could have parents who weren't both involved in deadly careers, and who would have the time to give her the attention and love she deserved. Hell, maybe she could even have siblings. It would hurt a lot to give up our daughter, of course. In a perfect world we would all be together as a happy family. Janine and I would be the ones to provide Rosemarie with every opportunity. We'd be there together for all of her firsts. We'd get to watch her make us proud with her every achievement as she learned and grew into a young woman.

As much as I desired deep in my heart for us to be the loving parental figures I pictured in my mind, I knew it was only a fantasy. Reality would look very different, with me staying out of the picture and Janine tending to Rosemarie only after long shifts at Court when she was too tired to do anything beyond the basics of motherhood. Hired babysitting help would do the rest while Janine worked. I could have provided enough financially in an instant that Janine would not have had to work a day for the entirety of Rosemarie's childhood. But when I had offered, she'd gotten angry and refused. It was bad enough, she'd insisted, that she couldn't be on active duty. She sure as hell wasn't giving up work altogether. She wouldn't even cut back to part-time for fear that it would hurt her reputation down the road. Janine was so determined to make all of this work, and I couldn't help but feel guilty for my part in burdening her with this child at such an early age when she was working so tirelessly at making a name for herself as a Guardian.

But now, I had this plan. It might have been a bit crazy. It was certainly not the sort of thing that folks did with their dhampir children. In fact, it had probably never happened before. But I had the means to do it, and if it meant giving my daughter a safer, better life, then I would find a way to make it work. It was the perfect way to keep Rosemarie out of this dangerous, unfair world that would only use her as disposable protection for a more highly valued Moroi life.

There was only one problem, then: convincing Janine.

[Janine]

"Ibrahim, I don't know what you've been off doing to compromise your judgement so thoroughly, but _humans_?" I shot my baby's father a murderous glare. Anyone else would have at least flinched, but he met my gaze evenly, the picture of calm. It made me want to throw something at him.

"Janine," he addressed me with his smooth, negotiating voice. "Think about Roza's future for a moment. If she goes with you, she spends the entirety of her formative years at an academy, becomes a guardian at best and a bloodwhore at worst. Either way, statistics favor her being dead by thirty, and without ever getting to have any choice in her own life's purpose. It's a death sentence." The air hung silent after he finished speaking. I realized that my eyes stung with tears—something that never happened. I blinked quickly to hide them.

"It's—it's not that bad, Abe," I said quietly, surprised by how fragile my own voice sounded. When his eyes settled on me, the look in them was compassionate.

"Janine, I am not trying to diminish what you do. You're a wonderful guardian and you take great pride in your work. It's an incredibly honorable service to dedicate your life to. I just think that perhaps our little girl should have a choice in her life without having that role placed upon her."

"Dhampirs don't get choices," I admitted quietly, again sounding fragile. I knew it wasn't right, but it was simply our reality. We protected the Moroi because they were sacred and fragile. In return, they kept our own race in existence.

"I know, Janine," Abe said softly. "But what if just this once, ours could? What if our little Rosemarie could go out into the world and do whatever she wanted, free from any sort of obligations?" Abe's idea wasn't completely crazy. Of course I wanted what was best for my daughter. I had just never considered that being anything other than a respected guardian.

"What if she would have wanted to be a guardian, but never got the chance?" I asked, my voice a bit stronger now. Abe paused. He didn't have an answer for that. I continued. "Sending her to live among humans would be denying her of her true identity. And neither of us would be able to be involved in her life at all."

"It's not like I was going to be involved at all either way." This time Abe's tone was bitter. "Besides, when she is at the academy and you're off on duty somewhere, it's not as though you'll be visiting her regularly. We both know you don't take vacation time." Now I was starting to get pissed.

"I have a very important job! I don't go frolicking off to take vacations because I have lives to protect! People rely on me for their safety! I don't take that lightly!"

"And you'll be away from active duty for the next four years until you can send Rosemarie away. That is, unless you have decided to take her out with you while you're guarding."

"That's absurd! No one puts a dhampir baby in that situation!"

"Then I guess you're giving up your own career ambitions to sit behind a desk filing paperwork so that our daughter can grow up to do the same!" I flinched. That was a cheap shot and he knew it. I insisted on continuing to work throughout my pregnancy and Rosemarie's childhood. I would _not_ be some stay-at-home mother when I had already been busting my ass for years to build a good reputation for myself. Full-time desk work and taking care of an infant was probably going to drive me to the point of insanity and Abe knew it.

"God damn it, Abe!" I shouted in frustration. He was right. He knew all of my feelings and knew that I believed I was being selfish. But I was only twenty-one years old. I was talented and in my prime of being physically fit. I should have been out there fighting—not here with a baby that I honestly had no idea what to do with. I was already convinced that I would not make a good mother. I had no idea what I was doing, or what to expect. I was sure that some human woman could definitely do a better job, honestly. It pained me. I felt like a failure. Rosemarie had entered this world through me, and I didn't have the slightest idea how to care for her. One night of being irresponsible had landed me here.

I am not sure when exactly Abe realized that he had truly struck a nerve with me, because the next thing I noticed was his arm around my shoulders as he leaned over the hospital bed. I sighed and leaned into him.

"We don't have to decide just now, Janine," he whispered to me softly. "Just promise me you'll think about it." I nodded my head slowly.

"I will."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I know it has been quite a long time since I started writing this story. I haven't been writing at all for months, but I am really trying to get back into it. I hope you enjoy this chapter, where you'll get to meet teenage Rose for the first time…**

 **Chapter 3**

 _Sixteen Years Later…_

[Rose]

I could _not_ believe that summer vacation was coming to an end already. It felt like it had only been a few weeks since I had bid farewell (and good riddance) to the teal green cemented hallways of Lannister High. My backpack was still right where I had abandoned it at the foot of my bed, filled with last year's crumpled papers and most likely some snacks that had long since gone moldy. Now it was already time to go back and start my junior year.

I always dreaded school. Academics weren't really my strong suit. It's not that I was a horrible student. I just got bored easily. I couldn't see the use in completing most of the pointless assignments that my teachers threw in as busy work. I thought they were a waste of my time—although the teachers really didn't seem to like it when I pointed this out. Nor did they care for me telling them I didn't complete my homework because their droning lectures caused me to slip into a coma for three days straight. Yes, I spent more than my share of days in detention for my smartass mouth, among other things.

If I'd had the patience, I would have just date a nerd and gotten him to do my homework for me. But, nerds weren't really my type and patience had never been a skill of mine. Also, I couldn't handle relationships. Lately I was starting to wonder if something was wrong with me. I mean, there were a handful of hot guys at my school, but not one of them ever held my interest for more than a few weeks. They always wound up being jerks. Every once in a while, one of the few nice guys would show interest in me, but, no matter how much I wanted to like him back, I could never manage it. Nice guys were boring and I couldn't handle boring. Besides, there was also this ridiculous rule my parents had. I was still technically not allowed to date.

Yep, that's right. At sixteen years of age, I was not allowed to have a boyfriend. I was still "too young" and "not responsible enough". I loved my parents, and most of the time they were great. They had always been very kind, generous and supportive—not to mention patient with me. They'd put up with a lot of my attitude over the years. I'll admit I had not been the easiest to live with. I'd thrown more tantrums than I could count. I pulled quite a few stunts in my early teens, most of which they didn't deserve to have to put up with. But some of their rules—like no dating, for instance—were straight up archaic.

The guys I went to school with were either boring or conceited, but the girls were a hundred times worse. They were elitist, entitled snobs who were ridiculously self-absorbed. We lived in an upper middle class school district where everyone came from a decent amount of money, and most girls were more than eager to flaunt it. Designer clothes, expensive jewelry, and new hairstyles every few weeks were just the tip of the iceberg.

I had the means to dress and act the same way they did. My parents would have let me in a heartbeat, and even encouraged it, since they wished I had more friends. But I found it much more fun to dress in unique, boyish clothes that I found at the local thrift store. This was mostly due to the fact that I didn't want to look like another cookie-cutter bimbo. I liked my eclectic style—especially when it made my dad raise his eyebrows and my mom comment, "You're really wearing _that_?" It was my way of sending a subtle "fuck you" to all of these upper-class snobs who wanted everyone to act just like they did.

I was often labeled as a whore or a slut, mostly because I refused to engage in their petty lifestyle. It didn't help that I had quite a curvy, hourglass figure that many of them envied. Sadly, that was often the only reason I caught the attention of most of the guys, too. More than once, I'd overheard their conversations about how I was such a hot piece of ass, and how they couldn't wait to have their turn with me. Little did any of them know that I was actually still a virgin, and part of the reason I dressed the way I did was to try to downplay my body shape.

So, school sucked. I couldn't wait until the next two years were over and I could be free from that place. I just wished one person would take a genuine interest in getting to know me—the _real_ me. Sometimes I wondered if she even existed anymore beneath this wall I had built around me. It didn't help that my only friend, Maria, had moved away over the summer. We hadn't been super close, but at least she'd been friendly to me and it gave me someone to have lunch with. Now that I didn't have anyone at school to hang around with, I just hoped I would be able to keep to myself and stay out of too much trouble.

The night before my first day, I finally emptied out the contents of my book bag, spraying it with perfume to get rid of the weird, musty smell. I tried to feign excitement by picking out a first day outfit. I was doing it for the sake of my mom. She had been so excited to take me shopping a week earlier so that I could get some truly new clothes for the start of the school year. She knew that Maria had moved, and it seemed to be bothering her more than it had bothered me. She was trying so hard to make me happy that I went shopping with her and spent the day picking out some nice, new things that were still unique in comparison to what everyone else would be wearing.

I chose to wear the new top that was Mom's favorite. It was a simple, deep burgundy scoop-neck t-shirt. The upper back had a pretty lace cutout, and it was clingier than most shirts I wore. I paired it with a pair of high-rise, dark wash denim shorts. They weren't that short, but still showed a lot more of my legs than I normally would. I chose a thin, white belt, and simple white canvas flats. I decided I'd put my long, deep brown hair in its usual ponytail, and wear my nice diamond earrings that I'd gotten for my sixteenth birthday. Mom would be elated when she took my picture in the morning. My parents still did that. Normally, I would put up a fight, but I'd been trying really hard to have less of an attitude lately. If I was well-behaved, my parents were going to let me get my driver's license and a reliable, used car so that I could get a job.

The next morning I dressed in my nice outfit and put on my usual light makeup. Mom's face lit up when she saw that I was wearing the clothes we picked out together. I took pictures with her and my dad, who told me he was proud of the confident, intelligent and beautiful woman I was becoming. When I left to walk to school, I was also wearing a smile, because I was happy to be getting along with my parents and proud of the fact that I had toned down my attitude over the summer. The real challenge would be keeping it up now that I was back in school.

The morning was beautiful—sunny and warm with just a light breeze. As I began the three block walk to school, I spotted one of my neighbors, a girl from my year, walking down her front steps. Her name was Emily, and as far as my classmates went, she wasn't so bad.

"Hi, Rose!" she called to me, smiling and waving. Surprised by her friendliness, I replied with a hello. She fell into step with me as we headed towards school. "I love your outfit today," she added as we walked. "That color is really pretty on you."

"Thanks," I answered. "You look nice, too." I noticed that her style was somewhat different from what I had remembered. Most noticeably, her straight, light brown hair that she always wore long was cropped in a short, asymmetrical bob. She was wearing blue, high-top Converse sneakers with black skinny jeans, and a simple, heather gray tank top. I would have expected her to be wearing the usual cute dress and strappy sandals that most of my female classmates would be sporting today. I wondered what had changed over the summer. As we chatted casually about our schedules for the semester, I started to get the feeling that we might be able to become friends this year. She even joined me in giving the finger to some random guys who were catcalling to us. At the very least, I knew who I would sit with at lunch today, and that was a start.

I even made it to homeroom two minutes before the bell rang. And I had yet to receive any snide comments or glares from anyone, which was probably a record.

Things were far from perfect in the life of Rosemarie Albright, but, for once, they seemed to be heading in the right direction. At least, I certainly hoped so.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I do intend to continue this story, and will update as frequently as I can. It might take me longer sometimes, as I have a lot going on in my life right now. Also, I have decided to change the rating for this story from T to M due to some dark themes in the upcoming chapters.**

 **Chapter 4**

[Rose]

Unsurprisingly, my good day was short-lived. In homeroom, I could feel the a few guys' gazes lingering on me long enough to make me uncomfortable. I took a seat in the back of the room and tried to ignore them. After several boring announcements about the start of the school year, we were handed official copies of our schedules, as well as our locker assignments and combinations for the year. Then, we were dismissed to go to first period.

My first class was Algebra 2. Gross. I hated math, especially math with _letters_ in it. To add insult to injury, my classroom was all the way on the third floor, and I only had two minutes to get there. I made a beeline for the back stairwell, which wouldn't be crowded because hardly anyone used it. There was some bullshit rumor about it being haunted, and apparently it was enough to deter most of the student population. However, as soon as I walked through the double doors, I was instantly filled with regret. Apparently it didn't deter everyone.

A group of guys were loitering in the first floor landing, near the space behind the stairs, and their eyes fell to me the instant I entered. There were five of them in all. I recognized one of them from my homeroom, and another was a guy named Cody Creswell, who had a reputation for being a player, and an asshole. The other three, I thought, were seniors. I'd seen them around campus before, but didn't know their names.

"Problem, _gentlemen_?" The sarcasm in my voice was apparent. The five of them stepped closer to me since I'd spoken.

"I might have a _problem_ you could help me out with, Rosie," Cody commented suggestively. I should have ignored them and kept walking. I really should have. But keeping my mouth shut really wasn't one of my finer skills.

"If you can't get it up, Creswell, I suggest a doctor. I hear they make pills for that these days." His friends sniggered and Cody looked pissed.

"That's not what I meant!"

"Oh." I shrugged. "Well in that case I'm sure your left hand is more than qualified for the job."

"I like this one. She's feisty," said one of the seniors, now blocking me from the stairs.

"I could show you a good time, little flower," another one of the seniors chimed in, also stepping closer to me. Soon all five of them were closing in. "I'll guarantee you I don't have the _little_ problems our friend Cody does." He gave me a wink. I felt nauseated.

"Yeah," added the guy from my homeroom. "When you give us our turns, we'll show you what it's like to have a real man."

"Excuse me?" I demanded, my blood starting to boil. "Your _turns_?"

"Oh, c'mon, babe," cooed one of the other seniors. "We've heard the stories about that hot piece of ass. Just wondering when we get the chance to try out the merchandise." Fiery anger was burning up inside me, but I remained still, fists clenched at my sides. I was shaking—disgusted. I was still a virgin, and horrified about claims these repugnant creeps were making about me.

"Looking all sexy for us today," Cody commented, apparently over his embarrassment. "It's like you're practically _begging_ for it." The guys' laughter echoed in the corridor. I felt like I wanted to vomit, and scream, and a million other things, but somehow I was keeping my temper in check-barely.

Somewhere in the midst of the chaos, I noticed that the bell was ringing.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm late for class." My voice was like ice as I tried to push past them to go up the stairs.

"Not so fast, sweetheart." One of the seniors yanked my arm pretty hard. "I at least want a preview of those perky tits." He reached out to grab my chest and something inside me snapped. All of the anger I'd been holding back flooded through my body. I felt rage like I had never experienced before. I socked him so hard in the face that he immediately fell to the ground, out cold, blood spurting from his nose. The others immediately jumped in to try to help him. But I was on fire. My body was acting on its own accord. My heart was hammering in my chest. All rational parts of my mind were gone. I was acting on pure adrenaline and instinct- kicking and punching, throwing people to the ground. Meanwhile, cries like, "crazy bitch!" and "stop it, you psycho whore!" echoed around me.

I couldn't tell how much time had passed when there was no one else left standing in the landing. Shaking uncontrollably, my thoughts slowly started to return. I took in the scene around me. All five of the guys who'd been harassing me were lying on the ground in the small area—all unconscious. I hoped they were just knocked out, and not anything worse. There was blood—lots of blood.

I knew I should move. I should get help. But my feet were planted to the spot. I opened my mouth to yell, but not a sound would come out.

"In here! The shouting was coming from in here!" I heard a female voice cry, as I heard the stairwell door burst open. "Oh my god!" Several faculty members were looking through the doorway in horror.

"Call an ambulance! Now!" shouted one of my old history teachers. "And the police!"

"Restrain her!" one of the guidance counsellors demanded to Mr. Plankard, a gym teacher, gesturing to me. The stocky, middle-aged man, awkwardly secured me in his grip, which seemed ridiculous since I hadn't made any sort of attempt to move.

No more than a few seconds passed before I felt a sudden wave of lightheadedness. Then my knees started to give out and the world went black.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

[ROSE]

When my eyes opened again, I was nearly blinded by fluorescent overhead lights. I was vaguely aware that I was lying in a bed. I blinked a few times as my last memories came flooding back to me.

"She's awake!" I heard my mother's concerned voice. Glancing to my side I saw her sitting in a chair next to what I realized was a hospital bed. My dad, standing next to her, was glancing down at me.

"How are you feeling, Rose?" he asked me gently. I assessed myself for a moment. Physically, I felt fine, but my stomach twisted at the memory of the beating I'd given those boys at school.

"I feel perfectly fine," I lied. "Why am I even here?"

"Rose, you fainted after you got into a fight at school," my mom answered carefully. "You were out for a little over an hour. Do you remember what happened?" Remembering more details, I nodded slowly.

"You injured all five of those guys, but you don't have any injuries at all," my dad continued, sounding curious. I knew he was fishing for an explanation without wanting to be too forward.

"I-I don't quite know what came over me," I answered honestly. "They were all harassing me in the stairwell. One of them grabbed me, and I just snapped. I don't know how I took them all down." It was the truth. Physically, I was in good shape because I frequently went for runs to relieve stress. I knew I was stronger than most girls, too, because I also did some weight training. But still it didn't seem possible that I had taken down five guys, all of whom had a good amount of height and weight on me. At least three of them were athletes, too.

"They were harassing you?" My mom's voice had an edge of anger to it now.

"Yeah," I answered, puzzled. "What did you think happened?"

"No one seemed to know, Rose," my dad quickly answered. "There weren't any witnesses. By the time anyone heard noises and entered the stairwell, they found you in a state of shock, and the five young men unconscious." I felt anger start to swell in me again.

"They were harassing me. All of them. They kept making crude comments and insinuating that I was some kind of whore!" My mom flinched and dad's expression looked angered.

"We don't understand how you beat up all of them," my mom said quietly, after a moment's pause.

"I don't know, either," I answered. "I was so angry… I just went on autopilot, kind of. Are they alright?" I suddenly wondered how badly I had injured them.

"Well, we've been told that all five of them were brought here," Mom answered. "Three of them were treated for minor injuries and are leaving as soon as they talk with the police. Another has a broken nose. And one of the boys, Rose—the one named Cody—he's been admitted to the hospital."

"What?" I asked, startled. I didn't think I had hurt anyone that badly. My dad spoke up.

"He suffered a really hard blow to the head. He's still unconscious and in the ICU. They think he might have brain damage."

"Brian!" my mom exclaimed, clearly aggravated with my dad. "We were going to tell her gently!"

"She needed to know, Mary! For God's sakes, the police are out there!" My stomach was suddenly twisting in knots. I felt myself beginning to panic.

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed. "I—I didn't mean to hurt anyone that badly!" My parents both just stared at me. "You have to believe me! I never meant to cause brain damage!" I felt my eyes welling up with tears. I'd been so angry with Cody. I hated him. But I never meant to do any permanent damage to him. "Oh my God," I repeated, my heart hammering in my chest. "Am I in trouble?" My parents exchanged glances but didn't say anything to me. "Fuck! I am, aren't I?"

"Watch your language!" my mom snapped.

"We're not sure yet," Dad answered at the same time. "But the police are waiting to talk to you as soon as the doctor checks you out."

"But they were harassing me!" I was suddenly defensive. "I was defending myself. They were going on about wanting to have sex with me! They're assholes!"

"Keep your voice down," my mom warned.

"Don't you believe me?" I demanded just as loudly.

"Of course we believe you," Dad answered after a moment's pause. "We're glad you were able to defend yourself. It's just that…" he trailed off.

"Just that what?" I demanded, sitting up in the bed. "You can't possibly blame this on me! They deserved what they got! If you had heard the things they were saying…"

"Rose! Please quiet down!" my mom asserted sharply. I glared at her.

"We don't want the police overhearing anything that might incriminate you," my dad explained in a quieter tone. I was really getting pissed.

"The police are here for me?" I demanded, shocked. "Seriously? They should be here for them! I want to press charges!"

"We don't know what's going to happen," Mom explained honestly. "Like we said, there weren't any witnesses. And one of the boys is seriously hurt, Rose." I started trembling as I listened to her.

"They aren't even sure he's going to make it," Dad stated suddenly.

"What?" I demanded. "You mean he might die?" I felt sick. "Oh my God, I'm going to go to jail for murder!"

"We don't know what's going to happen, Rose. But we need you to stay calm and be honest when the police come to talk to you. Can you do that?" Dad's voice was gentle.

"I'll try," I replied, my voice cracking. And then I burst into loud, uncontrollable sobs.

"Oh, Rose!" Mom explained, wrapping her arms around me.

"I didn't mean it," I sobbed. "I never meant to hurt anybody. I just wanted them to stop harassing me and trying to grab me."

"I know, sweetie," Mom answered gently, rubbing circles on my back. "That's what we need you to tell the police. Can you do that?" I sobbed some more.

"Rose, your mother and I will do everything we can to protect you." Dad came around to the other side of my bed and rested his hand on my shoulder. "We believe you. And those boys had no right to be speaking to you that way, or grabbing you. We are going to do everything we can to keep you out of trouble and make sure those boys receive punishment for their actions."

In what seemed like no time at all, a nurse realized I was awake and alerted the doctor. A quick examination went by in a blur as my mind was preoccupied with the impending police interview. The next thing I knew, a nurse was returning with discharge papers and dismissing me to the police.

"Rosemarie Albright," a female officer in her mid-thirties spoke to me no sooner than my parents and I had exited the examination room. She was slender with short, mousy brown hair and a tired-looking face.

"Yes," I replied tentatively.

"You're under arrest for the murder of Cody Creswell." She moved towards me, wielding a pair of handcuffs. My mouth dropped open. Both of my parents stared in silent horror as the female officer cuffed me. She and another male officer led me down the hallway, out the double doors of the emergency room, and into the back of a police cruiser.


End file.
